you have been my favourite thing this year

one time in

as if saying goodbye were harder than 

just plain gone.

my tears wont follow you north

but i am braver now, 

in song, in lullabies of poetry; 

ham-fisted

mocked by my keys as the settle into 

the door. 

they know. 

not sure if you do, as if spilled onto 

carpet and your feet get wet where 

are your eyes but on your phone?

_____

ten days will go, like snap, 

ten more, with a thud, 

till its thirty and three times 

or more

i hope that you beam, that i don't 

fall from grace

that afternoon sits pretty 

till it is night and then 

dawn and your face 

chops against the 

ocean

and i am listening to the wind 

so as to hear where my dreams have been.